Opposites Attract
by Han-22x
Summary: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter SLASH Multi-chapter romance. Circumstances lead to Draco and Harry falling in love with each other, but there are tests and trails on the way - will they still be in love by the end? l  Please read and review!
1. Chapter 1

This is a new Drarry, one full of lots of angst and lots of fluff, because Drarry is just so perfect with the best of both worlds. :)  
I hope you like! This is chapter 1, and I will keep on writing at request. Please review!

"_Taking the shrug as an invitation to take the knife, Harry reached out to take it, not foreseeing that Malfoy would reach out for it at the same time. Malfoy's hand closed over Harry's, and it stayed there for a split second, before being pulled hastily back._

* * *

Chapter 1

"I'm sorry, Sir, I think I might have misheard you," spluttered Harry apologetically. "You want me to do _what _exactly?"

When Harry had received the roll of parchment that evening, tied with a ribbon and signed "_A. Dumbledore_," this was the last thing he had expected. He, Ron and Hermione had spent the evening running up to the proposed meeting trying to guess what Dumbledore wanted, but he bet none of them would have guessed _this_.

Dumbledore sighed, and pushed his half-moon glasses back up his crooked nose. "I guess, Harry, that you did in fact hear me perfectly correctly."

"You want me to make friends with _him_?" asked Harry incredulously. "Are you mad?"

"No, I am not mad at all," remarked Dumbledore. "But I am in need of your help, and I had hoped that the idea would receive a better reception than this."

"Forgive me, Professor," said Harry. "But never, in a million years, could this work. We hate each other! Me and Malfoy haven't spoken a single friendly word to each other, ever."

"Do I need to impress upon you more the seriousness of this?" asked Dumbledore, the closest to severe Harry had ever seen him. "A great deal rides on the consequences of your actions."

"I just don't understand _why_, Professor," said Harry, seriously alarmed now. "How could this possibly help fight Voldemort?"

It just didn't make sense to him; why would befriending that arrogant, smug Slytherin help the cause? Harry seriously hoped this was all just one big hoax, although it didn't seem very likely.

"It is my belief," said Dumbledore, boring his blue eyes seriously into Harry's green ones, "that Mr. Malfoy may be helping the dark side. And, by doing so, Mr Malfoy is very dangerous. I am not going to confront him, because I suspect him being pressurised into doing this by someone, most probably his father – and I believe a more subtle line of action is needed. I just need you to discover whether Mr Malfoy is indeed working for Voldemort, I daresay he will only tell a very close friend."

Harry was staring at his Headmaster in shock. Draco Malfoy, a Death Eater? He should have suspected it. No one could be that arrogant and cruel, no one could be so _Slytherin _without eventually becoming a Death Eater. Look at his Father for example, Draco Malfoy was like a clone of him, no wonder he had turned out just as bad as him.

And now Dumbledore wanted him to befriend Draco Malfoy, a Death Eater? He wanted him to sit and converse with a teenager who was on speaking terms with Lord Voldemort? It was preposterous, it was ridiculous –

"Professor," said Harry, trying to bring this conversation down into the real world. "What makes you think that Malfoy wants to befriend me? He detests the sight of me; I hardly think that he's going invite me round to his house straight away."

"I'm sure you'll find a way, Harry," said Dumbledore blithely. "Just remember, the fate of the Wizarding World -"

"- rests in my hands," finished Harry, sighing dramatically. He could sense that the meeting was over, and he angrily made his way over to the office door, and slammed it shut behind him. Dumbledore winced ever so slightly as the wood crashed into the doorframe, but otherwise he seemed unaffected by the meeting.

"Impertinence!" sneered the painting of Phineas Nigellus, which was situated behind him. "Sheer impertinence!"

Albus Dumbledore, stroking his beard as he often did when he was thinking deeply, simply shook his head.

* * *

Ron and Hermione stared at Harry for a few moments before reacting to his news. He had told them quickly, because the words left a nasty taste in his mouth, and hearing himself say them made it all so much more _real_.

They reacted just how Harry would have expected them to react, Ron immediately descending into fits of laughter, while Hermione started to give quick ideas of how he could possibly succeed in this task, and what she thought of the whole scheme.

"Dumbledore – wants _you _to make friends with _Malfoy_?" choked Ron, tears rolling down his cheeks in laughter. "That's it, he's finally gone insane."

"This isn't going to be easy, Harry," said Hermione, biting her lip in anxiety. "Malfoy doesn't trust you at all..."

"And I don't trust Malfoy!" said Harry, thumping Ron on the shoulder. "He's a bloody Death Eater!"

"I don't know why you're so surprised," said Ron, rubbing the place where Harry had whacked him. "Little Malfoy grew up to be the same as Big Malfoy, not completely shocking."

"I had thought," admitted Hermione hesitantly. "That Malfoy would be...different from his Father."

"Yeah, whatever," snorted Ron. "We should have guessed by just looking at that ferret-face of his. What a bastard."

"I agree with Ron," said Harry, pushing back his hair from covering his glasses. "He's a git, and I've got to make friends with him. Shall we change the subject? Even talking about it is making me feel sick."

"Yeah, OK," said Ron, who turned to face Harry. "That reminds me, I've got a bone to pick with you!"

Hermione picked up her book, and promptly buried her face in it, so all the boys could see of her was her bushy brown hair. She didn't seem to notice that the book was upside-down, however. Harry gulped; Ron never had any bone to pick with him.

"What is it?" asked Harry, bracing himself.

"What the hell are you doing with Ginny?" asked Ron, turning slightly red. "Mate, I'm not being funny or anything, but you're messing her around."

"I am _not _messing her around!" insisted Harry, eyes opened wide. "She keeps forcing herself on me, I'm doing nothing!"

It was true. Recently, Ginny had been spending every possible moment she could, trying to catch Harry's attention. A second didn't pass without her sending scorning looks and words at her "opposition" – which didn't exist – constantly admiring either Harry's quidditch ability or hair, or trying to stare deeply into his eyes. He couldn't move without her "accidentally" bumping into him. It was starting to get rather frustrating.

"That's not what she told me," said Ron, eyes narrowing. "She told me that you told her, you really like her."

Harry sat up so quickly, the potions homework he was supposed to be doing slid off his lap. "Ron, mate, believe me – I have never said _anything _like that. I don't fancy your sister, and I have never encouraged me. She just seems to always be there!"

Ron visibly relaxed, and smiled weakly. "I suspected that much; I just wanted to make sure. She is besotted with you though, mate."

"Don't I know it," said Harry rolling his eyes and smiling. "I've done nothing to encourage her, either."

"She'll get over you, Harry," added Hermione from the depths of her upside-down book. "She was telling me how much she liked Seamus the other day, she might move onto him next."

"Don't you like her, at all?" asked Ron quietly.

"I did," admitted Harry, flushing slightly. "But it passed when this obsession started."

"I don't blame you," said Ron, rubbing his tired eyes. "If a girl started to obsess over me, I'd freak out a bit. Not that that's likely to happen though, because what girl would look at me when I'm with my best mate Harry Potter, the Chosen One!" He laughed, although Harry could have sworn there was a hint of misery in the smile, so he looked away at Hermione – who, he was surprised to notice, had turned a bright red.

"You all right there, Hermione?" he asked, completely bewildered.

"What? Oh yes, I'm fine," said a flustered Hermione. "I'd better be going to bed now, anyway. Bye!"

And with that, she practically ran up the stairs to the girl's dormitory, leaving all her homework on the table. The two bemused boys stared after her, both completely unable to understand why she had gone so suddenly.

"Girls," said Ron as he finished his potions essay with a scribbled last sentence. "Are a strange and complicated gender."

Harry nodded fervently, before giving up his own essay as a bad job and stuffing it away in his schoolbag.

* * *

When he woke up the next morning, settled comfortably in the thick red and gold duvet which reached up to his chin, Harry was extremely disappointed to realise that his conversation with Dumbledore hadn't been a dream after all.

"Wake up!" shouted Ron, lugging a pillow at Harry. Harry threw it back, hitting Ron on the back of his head, the force making him lose balance and tip over the edge of the bed.

"I'm coming, I'm coming," laughed Harry, as Ron's red face peered over the edge of his bed.

He got dressed speedily, and the two met with Hermione in the common room before they headed for breakfast. She seemed to have recovered from her escapade the previous night, and greeted them both with a smile.

"Feeling better, Hermione?" asked Ron, who was struggling to do his tie. Hermione didn't answer.

The trio walked into the Great Hall, and Harry was halfway through his second piece of toast before his arch enemy walked in. He tried to suppress the bubble of hatred he always got whenever he saw Draco Malfoy, and for once quietly observed him, while nibbling at his slice of burnt toast.

Draco Malfoy walked in alone, not flanked by his two cronies Crabbe and Goyle. Actually, thinking about it, Harry hadn't seen them with him for some time. They were already at the Slytherin table, talking and laughing with some other unpleasantly familiar faces; Theodore Nott, Pansy Parkinson and all that lot. Malfoy looked, on first glance, the same as he always did. Outrageously pale skin, white blonde hair and eyes arranged in a steely expression. However, there were changes which only someone has used to seeing and attacking Malfoy as much as Harry could see. He wasn't smirking, which Harry was surprised to see; instead he had a blank expression – as if he was past caring. He looked thinner and paler, Harry realised, and there was less of a swagger about him. Even from where Harry was sitting, he could see the dark shadows decorating his eyes. Slowly, Harry felt the bubble of anger within him subside and die down; Malfoy just looked so _defeated_.

"Hello Harry!" said an annoyingly familiar voice; belonging to a girl Harry really didn't want to see at the moment.

"Hi, Ginny," muttered Harry, heart sinking. He threw Hermione a glance which quite clearly said "Help me!" Luckily, Hermione picked up the hint straight away and forced Ginny in a conversation quickly. Harry sent a look of thanks to his best friend, and then went back to observing the white-blonde Slytherin.

Malfoy sat alone at the table, and he didn't touch anything. Instead, he just looked at the table, apparently thinking to himself. Harry knew he should look away, but he just couldn't, his eyes seemed almost magnetised to Malfoy. He was only brought to reality when Ron nudged him.

"Well, there you are Harry – your future best friend," he smirked, unaware of how intently Harry had been staring at Draco Malfoy. "Maybe you should go and sit next to him, he looks rather lonely."

"Ron!" hissed Hermione, breaking momentarily from her distraction of Ginny. "You really aren't helping the situation."

Ron shrugged and carried on shovelling cereal into his mouth, earning a disgusted look from Hermione.

Harry saw two Slytherins join Malfoy at the breakfast table; he recognised them as Blaise Zabini and Daphne Greengrass. He was surprised to see Malfoy smile slightly when they arrived, he couldn't remember the last time he had seen Malfoy smile, albeit weakly. Smirks and sneers, he had seen plenty of them, but never a smile. The three Slytherins conversed for a while, Daphne Greengrass laughed constantly.

"Looks like you've got some competition," smirked Ron, earning another glare from Hermione, and a bemused look from his sister.

Harry barely heard him; too busy was he at observing the trio of Slytherins. Greengrass had put some toast on a plate, and was offering it to Malfoy, but Malfoy was resolutely shaking his head, and then –

Harry ducked behind Ron, cheeks burning. God, what an idiot he was! Did he really think that staring unashamedly at someone wouldn't make them notice? Malfoy had looked up, obviously aware that someone was looking at him, and he had been surprised to see it was Harry. The two boys had looked at each other confusedly for a second, before Malfoy had narrowed his eyes and Harry had broken the stare; blushing to the roots of his hair.

"Are you alright, Harry?" asked Hermione, frowning, her spoonful of cereal halfway to her mouth.

"Yes, yes, I'm fine," said Harry, flustered, pulling out his timetable, determined never to look at Draco Malfoy again. He scanned the columns and rows, trying to concentrate on the lessons. It was October now, they had been back to school for over a month, and yet he still hadn't learnt his timetable. He felt his heart sink when he realised he had double Potions next, with the Slytherins. He had more Malfoy to cope with, brilliant.

* * *

Draco Malfoy frowned, trying to work out what he had just witnessed. He had looked up, for a moment, and there had been Potter, staring at him shamelessly! Why on Earth would Harry bloody Potter, the Boy-Who-Just-Wouldn't-Die stare at him?

"Draco, I really wish you'd eat _something_," said Daphne, sighing, flicking her long auburn hair back. Draco really liked Daphne, but not in any other way than friendly. She was quick, intelligent, devious and hilarious; she made Draco laugh when he was in the worst of moods, and he was gratified to find that she wasn't intimidated by his name or reputation. It was hard finding someone who didn't sweat nervously whenever he spoke, as if he'd _Crucio_ them into hell at any moment.

As for eating, however, Draco refused to. He had been through so much in the past couple of months, from secret Death Eater meetings to briefings by the Dark Lord himself, he had found little time for eating. Add this to a need for perfection which his Father had frequently reminded him to keep, and a constant never-ending feeling of anxiety and nerves, and it had led to Draco finding that eating was something he hated to do.

"I agree with Daphne, Draco," said Blaise in his deep voice. "Just a bite, please."

Blaise was undoubtedly Draco's best friend, someone who had always seemed to _understand_ him. It was hard, being the son of a Death Eater; the only people you seemed to attract were power-hungry fools or thugs desperate for a leader. Blaise was neither, he was someone of equal intelligence with Draco, someone who he could talk to, moan to, complain to, and most importantly – have a laugh with. Draco never took any moment which made him laugh for granted.

"Fine, fine," he grumbled, taking a small bite out of the piece of toast. He hated it, he despised it – but they were his friends, and he was an annoyingly loyal person. It was the Hufflepuff in him, and he only showed that side of him to his closest friends.

Blaise and Daphne still looked worried, so Draco changed the subject.

"Any idea why Potter was staring at me?" he sneered, sending an uncertain glare in Potter's direction.

"What, _Potter_?" said Blaise. "_Harry Potter_?"

"Who else?" snapped Draco. "I look up for one second, and there he is – gawping at me as if I was some sort of freak show."

"Filthy half-blood," muttered Blaise, and Draco nodded approvingly.

"He thinks he's so much better than me," he sneered. Unknown to him, Blaise and Daphne exchanged glances. They knew what was going to follow, the "Harry Potter Rant" they liked to call it. Every day or so, Draco would descend into ranting about the Gryffindor hero, about how he wasn't really all that special, about how much Draco hated him. By experience, they knew the rant could last ten minutes, so Daphne quickly steered the conversation into a new direction.

"Maybe he fancies you!" she smirked, laughing. Blaise and Draco snorted simultaneously.

"Who doesn't?" Draco asked, raising an eyebrow jokingly.

Blaise, sniggering, made as if to raise his hand slightly, but Draco threw a piece of toast at him before he could raise it fully, and the buttered side hit him squarely in the face. Blaise swore at Draco, but it wasn't long before the three teenage Slytherins were laughing hysterically. Wiping his eyes, Draco looked at his two friends approvingly. He was glad he had them, although it would have taken a rampaging hippogriff to make him admit it.

* * *

Harry entered the potions classroom like he always did, like a man walking to his death sentence. Snape hadn't wasted anytime this year in making Harry's life a living hell, and Harry was sure he had set the record for the most detentions in such a short space of time. Harry knew, deep inside, that he shouldn't react so much to Snape's taunts and insults, but the James Potter genes inside him made him unable to resist.

Was it just him, or was Snape looking more menacing than normal? Harry wondered, as he sat down between Ron and Hermione. The man who still reminded Harry of a large bat was smiling ever so slightly, something which was completely unheard of – and he was rubbing his hands together in a threatening manner.

Ron apparently, had noticed as well. "What's Snape looking so pleased about?" he muttered under his breath.

Harry shook his head, because at that moment, Snape had slammed the door shut behind the latecomers, and was starting to speak.

"Miss Patil, and Miss Brown, I do not tolerate latecomers. 10 Points from Gryffindor," started Snape, as a way of a warm welcome. Lavender and Parvati ducked behind their cauldrons in shame, and Harry gave such a glare of concentrated hatred to Snape, he was surprised he didn't disintegrate on the spot.

"Today, we will -" started Snape, before he was interrupted by the Potions door slamming open again.

Malfoy, Zabini and Greengrass sauntered in, throwing fleeting apologies at Snape for being late. Snape waited until they had sat down, before starting again. Harry scowled again, blistering with the unfair favouritism Snape showered on the Slytherin students.

"Today we will be brewing an Agility Potion," started Snape. "This is a painfully simple potion, designed to make the recipient more capable of using their limbs in a more agile way. As I said, it is painfully simple to create, although I have no doubts that most of this class, agonizingly dim-witted as most of you are, will make a complete mess of it. Nevertheless, you all have a double lesson to complete it. The instructions are on the blackboard, and you may begin."

Angrily, Harry started to light the fire under his cauldron, but he had only just lit one flame, before Snape started speaking again.

"Oh yes, and for today, I will choose your partners."

Harry and Ron looked at each other in alarm. They always worked together in potions, it was an unspoken rule – generally because they were both so terrible at it, they found solace in each other when their potions started to become tar-like. Hermione looked shocked as well; she always worked with Neville, because who else would give him support? Harry twisted around in his seat to survey the Slytherin's reactions and was gratified to look that they looked equally, if not more, shocked.

Snape smiled nastily.

"Let's split the Golden Trio," he sneered. "Mr Weasley, next to Zabini."

A very pale Ron stood up and dumped his equipment gracelessly on Zabini's desk, without saying a word. Harry was sure that he and Zabini had never spoken a word to each other before, but the mere fact that one was Gryffindor and one was Slytherin said it all. Zabini turned around to face Malfoy, mouthing something which Harry was sure was "At least he's pure-blood." Harry clenched his fists in anger.

"Miss Granger, next to Miss Greengrass."

Nose in the air, Hermione walked over to Daphne Greengrass' desk and deposited her large pile of books on the desk. Daphne Greengrass pushed her chair as far away from her as she could, and sent looks of horror over to where Malfoy was sitting.

"Longbottom – next to Crabbe, Finnegan – next to Goyle, and Mr Thomas sit next to Mr Nott."

The three Gryffindors sulkily sat next to their assigned partners, no student looking particularly happy.

"Miss Patil, Miss Brown – sit next to Miss Flint and Miss Parkinson."

Lavender and Parvati looked alarmed at the thought of working without the other, and separated reluctantly.

"Oh," said Snape, with a look of feigned surprise. "It looks like Mr Potter will have to be partnered by Mr Malfoy." And when Harry showed no sign of moving, he barked "Move now!"

Harry wasn't sure who looked more horrified by the proposal, him or Draco Malfoy. He approached his desk reluctantly, dragging his bag on the floor, and swung it on top of the desk. Being so close to Malfoy, he could see just how pale and tired he was, it was almost alarming; it was as if all the energy had been sucked out of him. He was excruciatingly thin as well, and Harry wondered fleetingly how little he was actually eating.

Dumbledore's words echoed into Harry's mind, and he realised with a jolt, what a perfect opportunity to try and make Draco trust him. It was just him and Draco, and they were perfectly alone, unless you counted Zabini and Greengrass' pitying looks company.

"Malfoy," Harry said, acknowledging the other boy's presence. Malfoy looked surprised at the direct address, and didn't answer – instead he concentrated on chopping the exact measurement of roots for his potion. Harry was at a loss now, how could he start a half-decent conversation?

"Erm, could I borrow your knife Malfoy?" he asked, pushing his own silver knife into his open schoolbag. Draco Malfoy looked at him sneeringly through silver eyes, before shrugging and returning to his own potion. God, he was making this difficult.

Taking the shrug as an invitation to take the knife, Harry reached out to take it, not foreseeing that Malfoy would reach out for it at the same time. Malfoy's hand closed over Harry's, and it stayed there for a split second, before being pulled hastily back.

"What the _hell _are you doing, Potter?" he hissed.

"I was just getting the knife, _Malfoy_" hissed back Harry, equally embarrassed and earnest.

"Whatever," said Malfoy, turning his back on Harry once again.

"Are you alright, Malfoy?" asked Harry, deciding to jump into the deep end, and see how the other boy responded. Dumbledore had said "make friends", and by just hissing at each other, they were getting no where. It was time to go in for the kill.

"What?" scoffed Malfoy, turning around once more in exasperation. "Why are you talking to me?"

"You don't look alright Malfoy, I noticed before-"

_Damn, I shouldn't have said that. _He realised now, just how much of a stalker he sounded.

"What, when you were staring at me during breakfast?" challenged Draco Malfoy, eyes narrowing even further, until just little slits were left.

"I – I didn't mean to -" stuttered Harry, cursing himself into oblivion.

"Stay out of my life, Potter, like you told me you intended to, five years ago when we were eleven," hissed Malfoy.

"For God's sake, Malfoy, I'm just -"

"When have you _ever _taken a slightest interest in me?" asked Malfoy in a furious whisper. "Why start now?"

It was a fair point.

"People _change_, Malfoy!" said Harry, clutching at straws. He knew he wasn't making any sense, but he didn't care, Malfoy infuriated him so much...

"No, Potter. They don't. People don't change, they never do. You think people can change for the better? You're lying to yourself," said Malfoy, and there was a real sadness in his eyes, before he blinked and it was replaced with hatred again.

The two didn't talk for the rest of the potions lesson, Harry torn between a grudging concern and annoyance, Draco torn between confusion and anger. Neither spoke, because they were thinking so much, brains whirring in a frenzy, so that by the end of the lesson, neither of their potions were very good – they just couldn't concentrate.

Draco Malfoy left the lesson before anyone else did, and Harry was startled to see a glimpse of tears in his eyes, although he was sure he must have imagined it, as he ran out of the classroom. Zabini and Greengrass followed, expressions arranged into worried ones.

* * *

A very disgruntled Ron approached him; his potion had been given an F by a sneering Snape and he was not best pleased. Hermione appeared by his left shoulder, flushing with success after brewing the best potion in the class. "How did it go with Malfoy?" she asked as they walked out of the dungeons and into the more cheerful Entrance Hall.

"Well, he didn't like me talking to him, he doesn't trust me at all, and I think I made him cry," rattled off Harry, frowning.

Ron snorted. "You made Draco Malfoy cry?" he laughed. "Mate, you have made my year. Thank you."

Harry smiled weakly, and Hermione caught this. "What's wrong, Harry?"

Harry sighed. "He's not what I expected. I expected him to be arrogant, sneering, you know – the Malfoy we all know and hate. But he's, well he's broken, for a better word. I'm actually sort of worried about him. He's not eating, and he looks like he's going to break down any minute."

Ron looked at him in shock. "When have _you _ever cared about him?" he gasped.

Hermione understood. "Harry, I think the best thing you can do for him is to follow Dumbledore's instructions. Try and befriend him, and you can help. If that's what you want to do."

Harry clutched his head in his hands. "What the hell am I doing? This is _Malfoy_. I'm supposed to hate him, not worry about him!" he moaned.

Hermione clutched his hands with her own, and smiled.

"It's good that you don't hate him, if you want to be friends with him. Don't think of him as Malfoy then, just think of him as a broken human being," she sighed. "You do have a bit of a saving-people thing, don't you?"

Harry smiled ruefully.

"Never thought I'd want to save the person who's tried his best to make my life hell," he admitted, pushing his glasses up his nose. "I do have a problem."

Ron nodded vigorously, but grinned when Harry aimed a thump at him, but missed.

* * *

"Draco!" shouted Daphne Greengrass, banging on his dormitory door. "Draco Malfoy, come out this _instant_!"

"Draco, mate – it's just us!" added Blaise, who was lolling against the doorframe.

Draco Malfoy wouldn't have let them in for the entire world, because he was crying alone in his room – and the last thing he wanted was his best friends to see him like this. He was _Draco Malfoy _for God's sake. He didn't cry.

But, he had meant what he said to Potter. People never did change; look at him! Marked as a Death Eater the moment he stepped into this school, marked as someone evil, someone who couldn't be trusted. And look what he had turned into; someone who followed the Dark Lord. He hadn't changed for the better, and he didn't think he ever would. He would always be the arrogant villain from the first years of his school that everyone hated and distrusted.

There was never any hope for someone like him.

And so he ignored the knocks on the door, and the incessant shouting, until they all fazed out. And the only thing he noticed were the single tear drops working their way down his paler than ever cheeks.

* * *

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	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

_Harry had thought that Draco would snatch his hands away as soon as Harry touched him with his half-blood skin, but he thought wrong. Draco seemed glad of the human contact, and if anything, he gripped Harry's hands tighter._

* * *

Harry woke up the next morning, to a day of Herbology and Care of Magical Creatures. A cold autumn wind whistled outside, and found its way into the dormitories, raising the hairs on Harry's neck and arms. He sighed, and as he got dressed he padded himself out with two Weasley jumpers and a scarf. He had quidditch practise later on, and he knew it was going to be bitterly freezing.

At least he could wake Ron up today, he thought with a grin of satisfaction as he threw a pillow at Ron's sleeping figure. "Wake up!" he yelled, opening the window. Ron nearly fell out of bed as an icy gust of wind hit him.

"Oi!" he shouted, emerging from a tangle of blankets on the stone-cold floor. "What are you playing at?"

Harry grinned. "Call that revenge for all those jibes you've given me about Malfoy."

Ron shrugged, and it wasn't long before the two squabbling teenage boys entered the common room, to find Hermione waiting for them.

The three Gryffindors took a shortcut to the Great Hall, down a couple of stony corridors, shivering slightly in the draughty spaces. Harry left Ron and Hermione to argue about Herbology homework, and his thoughts drifted back to the mysterious pale boy with the white blonde hair. He had never thought so much about him before, and the thoughts kept niggling to the front of his mind when he wasn't expecting it.

They pushed through a tapestry, and found themselves in the Entrance Hall, where it was noticeably warmer and much more cheerful. Ron and Hermione stopped arguing, and it wasn't long before Neville and Luna joined them - Neville moaning slightly about losing his Remembrall, and Luna rambling on about Wrackspurts and Nargles. It was a cheery party who made their way to the Great Hall; that is until Ron accidentally tripped over his large feet and fell into one Draco Malfoy.

"Watch where you're going, Weasley," spat Malfoy, pushing Ron away from him and dusting down his robes.

"Same for you, Malfoy," said Ron, obviously annoyed.

Malfoy muttered something, and was about to walk off – but Ron stopped him, grabbing his arm before he could slope off.

"What did you say, Malfoy?" he hissed, arm shaking in fury. Hermione grabbed Ron's arm, but he shook her off. Neville looked uneasy, while Luna looked blissfully unaware of what was taking place, and started unrolling a new edition of the Quibbler. Harry stood edgily on Ron's left side, uncertain of what he should do. Should he follow Dumbledore's orders and not get into a fight, or defend his best friend?

Malfoy looked at Ron's arm as though it was a particularly revolting slug, before pushing it off and smirking ever so slightly.

"I _said_ that you were just a filthy blood traitor, so you weren't worth wasting my time," sneered Malfoy, narrowing his eyebrows at Ron, who was rapidly turning red.

"And _you're _a Death-Eater," spat Ron, causing a lot of onlookers to gasp. Malfoy turned red, which was a remarkable feat for someone so pale. He drew out his wand, and Ron followed suit, which was where Harry intervened.

"Ron, come on – let's go," muttered Harry, dragging Ron away from the scene. Ron turned astonished eyes on him, but allowed himself to be pulled away from the confrontation. Harry glanced back, and saw a crowd which had been expecting a fight looking bewildered, but none looked as astounded as Malfoy, who was looking dumbfounded at Harry.

"What the _hell_?"asked Ron, as soon as they were a safe distant from the scene. "Why did you stop me fighting Malfoy? Did you _hear _what he called me?"

"I have to get Malfoy to trust me," Harry replied. "Believe me; I had little pleasure in doing that."

Ron still looked angry, but he didn't press the point. Hermione caught up with them at that point, nodding approval towards Harry.

"Malfoy looks very confused Harry," she said. "I think you're on the way."

Ron grunted and started to help himself to some sausages, piling tomato ketchup on his plate. Hermione smiled at Harry, before tucking into some toast. Harry, however, didn't feel like eating at all and instead contented himself to staring into the distance, mulling over some thoughts in his head.

"I'm going to go to Herbology early," he told Ron and Hermione. Both looked surprised, but they didn't say anything as he sauntered away, without touching any food. Over at the Slytherin table, Draco Malfoy watched him leave, and as soon as he left the Great Hall Malfoy stood up from his table and followed him, ignoring Daphne and Blaise's questions.

Harry was glad to get outside Hogwarts, even if it was bitterly cold outside. The whole affair with Draco Malfoy was all so confusing; it was nice to clear his head with some autumn air. He had twenty minutes until Herbology, so he dawdled there, glad of a chance to be alone for once.

"Potter."

Harry span around, unsettled, and stiffened when he saw Malfoy standing there, apparently alone. The other boy was trembling uncontrollably in the cold wind, and Harry could almost hear his teeth chattering. Harry knew that was probably due to all the weight he had lost, and a surge of pity spread through him, to his annoyance.

"Malfoy," he replied.

The other boy approached him, eyes wary.

"What's going on, Potter?" asked Malfoy, rubbing his arms in the hope of triggering some warmth. "Why have you been acting so bloody strange around me?"

Harry suddenly realised how strange the situation was, for this was surely the longest the two teenage boys had gone without cursing each other, or insulting each other. It was odd; strange – and Harry didn't know how to reply to Malfoy's question.

"I guess everyone deserves a second chance," muttered Harry, trying to choose his words carefully.

"Not everyone," replied Malfoy. "Definitely not everyone."

"Do you mean yourself?"

"Why the hell are _you _giving me a second chance?" scoffed Malfoy, disbelievingly.

"Someone has to," retorted Harry, determined to make Malfoy trust him.

Harry could immediately tell that that was the wrong thing to say, because Malfoy's pale face turned slightly pink, his eyes narrowed, and he advanced menacingly.

"I don't want your pity, Potter," spat Draco Malfoy. "I don't need sympathy from some do-good Gryffindor half-blood."

"Be thankful someone is trying to," snapped back Harry. "I don't see anyone else taking an interest."

"I don't need anyone!" shouted Malfoy, his voice being carried by the autumn wind. Harry could almost see the raw anger and passion glinting in his eyes, before suddenly it was extinguished and he crumpled to the floor, in some sort of unknown agony. The teenage boy was soon crouched, hugging his knees and trembling. Harry was alarmed to see tears were falling from Draco's eyes, being snatched away by the wind before they left his eyelashes. Pity, and something else filled Harry and he reached over to grab Draco's shaking hand.

With a sudden flash of red light, Harry felt himself being pushed away with such force he fell to the ground himself. Draco Malfoy stood over him, eyes red from tears, and teeth gritted.

"Did you hear that Potter? I don't need _anyone_."

"What's going on here?" called a shrill voice. Harry quickly got to his feet, and he and Draco turned around to see Professor Sprout ambling along towards the Greenhouses, face set in suspicion at the scene in front of her. Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter, famous enemies, alone together in the bitterest of weather.

Harry quickly took control of the situation. "Nothing, Professor Sprout. I had just fallen over, you see, and Malfoy was helping me up."

It was a weak story, Harry knew that, but it seemed to do the trick. Professor Sprout nodded disbelievingly, and then smiled her normal jolly smile at them both. "Well, since you're both so early for lessons, you can both help me replant some mandrakes. Alright?" And without waiting for any replies, she strolled off.

Draco Malfoy looked hesitantly at Harry, obviously unsure as to whether thanks were in order or not. Confusion was evident from his face, but he nodded uncertainly to his arch-enemy, and quickly followed Professor Sprout into the Greenhouse.

* * *

Harry didn't see Draco Malfoy for the rest of that day; it almost seemed as if he was avoiding him. And, after such an outburst of emotion Harry had previously thought impossible for someone like Draco Malfoy, he couldn't blame him. It had given Harry an insight into the complicated mind of the Slytherin. Draco was adamant that he was independent, but it was obvious that he wanted some sort of company. He was scared, but refused to admit to the fact. All in all, it was as if Draco Malfoy was living a facade, a mask against the rest of the world. The mask had slipped off slightly when he had been with Harry, so Draco hid from him for the rest of the day.

Ron was still slightly angry with him for dragging him away from the fight with Malfoy, firmly believing that Harry had made him look like a coward in front of everyone. Oh, Ron still talked to Harry, but there was a slight coolness present as well.

Hermione approved of everything Harry was doing, and was also doing a fantastic job of distracting Ginny from Harry, which Harry knew would put him forever in her debt.

That evening, in the common room, the atmosphere was rather difficult. Ron was completely focused on beating Seamus Finnegan in Wizard's Chess, and had no words to say to Harry. Hermione was completely a difficult-looking Ancient Runes essay and refused to speak to anyone until it was completed, meaning that Ginny was free to have Harry to herself. She pushed non-existent strands of hair out of his eyes, complimented him on his writing, demanded to know _what _he was writing, until he was driven half-mad.

"I'm just going for a walk," he said, as a means of escaping. "I'll be back in a few." Ginny looked disappointed, and Harry nearly fell out of the portrait hole in his haste to get away.

He walked with no particular purpose, wondering how long it would take for Ginny to give up on him and head to her dormitory. He had the invisibility cloak stuffed into his trousers pocket, ready to slip on in case of an approaching teacher, and he had the Marauder's Map to make sure that the coast was clear.

He slipped behind a tapestry, behind which he knew, was an alcove big enough for him to hide for a bit. He brought out the grotty, tattered piece of parchment which was one of his most treasured possessions and with a tap of the wand and a whispered "_I solemnly swear I am up to no good_", the enchanted map of Hogwarts appeared.

To his relief, all the teachers were safely in their respective offices. Filch was in the entrance hall, chasing after a tiny dot marked "Peeves", and Mrs Norris was prowling near the Ravenclaw common room.

And then he noticed him. The single, tiny insignificant dot marked "Draco Malfoy" was alone, stationary in a bathroom. Curiosity burned Harry; what was Malfoy doing alone in a bathroom, three floors away from the Slytherin common room? Why was he stationary, why wasn't he moving? Was he alright? The last question burst out of his mind from nowhere, and instead of denying that he'd thought it at all, Harry decided to spring into action.

Stuffing the now wiped-clean map into his pocket, Harry sprinted off towards the third floor bathrooms.

* * *

Draco Malfoy hadn't meant to end up in the third floor bathrooms, but when you're running half-blinded by tears, you don't always know where you're heading. He had crashed through the half open door, praying to God that no one was already in there. He had been lucky, no one had been.

That was where he had been for the past thirty minutes, crying alone in this dilapidated bathroom. He was so disgusted with himself for descending to this level, to actually letting his emotions out, he had cried even more. The tears had worked their way down his cheeks, into the dirty sinks, as he had stared in revulsion at his reflection in the mirror.

He had been given the most impossible of all tasks by the Dark Lord, a task which even he himself couldn't complete. A task now on the shoulders of a 16 year old boy, along with the fact that if he failed to complete it, his father and his mother would both die. And he couldn't let that happen, even if living now was killing him, crushing him.

He broke out into a fresh wave of wracking sobs, whilst looking in disgust at his reflection in the mirror. His father had once told him to strive for perfection. If he had any idea what an effect those words would have on his son, Draco was sure he would never had said them. Draco had half-starved himself in order to follow those words; trying to reach a weight which he thought would make him perfect. He had beaten himself up over those five syllables, stressed about it and obsessed over it.

Strive-for-perfection.

As he looked at the pale, thin, hollow shell in the mirror he knew that he had never been so far away from perfection.

Allowing his rage to take over him, he took a deep breath and drove his fist into the mirror, so that shards went flying, and shattered into his skin.

* * *

Harry flew down the staircase, taking the shortest route he knew to the third floor bathrooms. He had no idea what Malfoy was doing, but remembering how depressed he had been before, Harry's blood ran cold at the possibilities.

He took a short-cut through a hidden door built into the wall, breathlessly running down the stone corridor behind it, marvelling at how a situation could change in such a short space of time. A few days ago, Harry would have happily laughed at the idea of Draco Malfoy in tears, but now here he was, trying to prevent just that.

He was nearly at the bathrooms, just a few more corners to race around...

* * *

It was a terrible crime to ruin perfection, Draco Malfoy knew that. But ruining imperfection, there was nothing wrong with that was there? Anyway, Draco had had enough of everything. Ending it all just seemed like the ideal solution.

With choking sobs and trembling pale fingers, he picked up a shard of the broken mirror, and weighed it in his hand. Could he do this?

* * *

Harry raced down the final stone corridor, pulling his wand out as he ran. He saw the distant figure of a teacher, and he quickly ducked behind a statue of some gargoyle; heart hammering in his chest. The bathrooms were just around the corner, and as soon as the teacher had moved away, he tried to fling himself through the bathroom door; only to realise that it was locked from the inside.

Inwardly cursing, Harry started beating on the door, perfectly aware that almost every teacher could here him hitting the wood with his whole body weight. The door just wouldn't budge; and there were no signs of life from inside, although he knew for a fact that Draco Malfoy was in there. Panicking, he starting knocking on the beaten wood furiously, hissing for Malfoy to open it. There was no answer.

* * *

Draco tried to ignore the knocks on the bathroom door, it was surely only an over-inquisitive prefect, and since he was a prefect himself, it was of no consequence. No one could possibly know that _he _was in there, after all.

He hovered the shard of mirror, so painfully sharp, over his flawless skin. He was shaking, and his breathing had turned raggedy, but inside he knew that this was the only way forward. He tried to imagine what it would be like to actually cause that much blood appear, but his imagination ran short. There was only one way to find out.

Draco Malfoy took a deep breath.

* * *

His mind had been panicking so much; he had forgotten the simplest method of entering a locked door. Knowing that Hermione would be furious with him, Harry brought his wand to the door lock, and whispered _Alohomora_.

The door immediately creaked open, and Harry impatiently barged in, casting his eyes over, and assessing the scene in front of him in a split second. Draco Malfoy was leaning over one of the sinks, one hand gripping the edge of the basin with all his might, the other hand holding – what looked like a distinctly sharp piece of glass. Harry then realised that the bathroom mirror had shattered, and there were what looked like blood stains on the wall.

"Malfoy!" gasped Harry.

Malfoy span around, looking like a child caught doing something he shouldn't have. Harry immediately saw how close the other boy was holding the shard to his wrist, and realised exactly what Malfoy had been about to do.

"Potter!" gasped Malfoy. "How did you know where I was?"

Harry grabbed his arm, and carefully took the piece of glass out of Malfoy's shaking hand. He then caught both of his hands with his own, and looked into Draco Malfoy's eyes, something he never thought he would do. He was surprised to see that they weren't a cold grey, like he had always imagined. They were a swirling grey, with more emotions caught in there than Harry could ever have imagined.

Harry had thought that Draco would snatch his hands away as soon as Harry touched him with his half-blood skin, but he thought wrong. Draco seemed glad of the human contact, and if anything, he gripped Harry's hands tighter.

"What were you going to do, Malfoy?" said Harry in a low voice, perfectly aware of what he had been about to do.

"God, if you understood my situation Potter! Maybe you'd do the same thing," muttered Malfoy.

"It's not worth it," said Harry, firmly.

Malfoy didn't answer, but he instead looked at his and Harry's hands, entwined. His pale fingers, tangled with the scarred and sun-burnt fingers of Harry Potter. Carefully, he pulled his hands away, and without another word, left the bathroom.

Harry remained there, full to the brim with a mixture of complicated feelings; feelings he had never experienced together. Hatred for his previous arch enemy had all but vanished, it seemed impossible to hate someone so broken, so different. He would never have believed it a year or more ago, but his anger towards the pure-blood had abated.

He definitely felt confusion; confusion as to why his feelings had changed so much towards the Slytherin, and what exactly was he feeling now? Pity was definitely there, a great surge of sympathy towards the boy who didn't want to live anymore. And there was something else, a sort of magnetising _attraction _towards Malfoy. Not that he would ever admit it to anyone, of course.

* * *

Thankfully, when he returned to the Gryffindor Common room, Ginny had already gone to bed. Ron was snoozing in front of the log fire, and Hermione looked as if she was just putting the finishing touches to her essay. Harry had hoped to sneak into his dormitories without his two best friends noticing him, but he had no such luck. Hermione seemed to get sharper the later the time and she spotted a glimpse of Harry's white trainers from underneath the Invisibility Cloak.

"Harry!"

Harry jumped, and the Invisibility Cloak slipped off him, showing his frozen figure with one hand reached for the handle for the door to the dormitories.

"Hermione," he muttered guiltily, wondering how he was going to explain this to her. Ron snorted in his sleep then opened his eyes groggily.

"Wuzzgoinnon?" he murmured.

"Yes, Harry, why were you sneaking past us?" asked Hermione shrilly, doing a perfect impersonation of Professor McGonagall.

"I'm just feeling rather antisocial at the moment," admitted Harry. "I just wanted to go to my room and think."

"Well, you escaped Ginny," said Hermione. "She went to her dormitory ages ago, where have you been?"

"No where," replied Harry. "Just wandering about."

"Did you find Draco Malfoy?" asked Hermione, narrowing her eyes. Harry's jaw dropped open, how did Hermione get so clever?

"How the _hell _did you know that?" spluttered Harry.

"Oh, just by an expression you had on your face," smiled Hermione. "So you did?"

Ron sat up from his armchair and focused an unreadable expression on Harry; an expression which Harry immediately saw as disapproving. Harry knew how much Ron detested Draco Malfoy, and he knew that the more time he spent with him; the less Ron would like it.

"Yes," said Harry reluctantly.

Hermione knew from Harry's expression that he didn't want to talk about it, but Ron saw no such hidden message.

"Well, what was the ferret moaning about now?" he asked, not looking very concerned. "Are his Death Eater pals threatening to kill him?"

Actually, Ron," said Harry, voice suddenly cold. "He tried to kill himself."

And without another word, he stormed up to his dormitory, leaving a dumbfounded Ron and a shocked Hermione behind in the common room. When he got to his red and gold decorated four-poster bed, he sat heavily down onto the duvet, and pulled out the Marauder's Map again. It was with a great deal of relief that he realised that the single dot labelled "Draco Malfoy" had returned to the Slytherin common room, and two dots were next to him labelled "Daphne Greengrass" and "Blaise Zabini."

It was not easy for Harry to fall asleep that night, with images of blood and a screaming Draco Malfoy tumbling through his mind. Twice he woke up, sweating – just like had used to do when Voldemort's thoughts had been linked to his.

* * *

Draco quietly said the password, and entered his common room slowly. He felt dead, half-stunned. He had entered the Slytherin dungeons many times in his life, but he had never felt as excluded as he did now from his housemates as they chattered and laughed away.

Daphne and Blaise had been in the corner of the common room, talking in lowered voices to each other. Draco fleetingly wondered when one of them would admit they liked the other; they were so perfect for each other, it was the running joke of Slytherin that they weren't a couple yet.

Both of them noticed him making his way across the room. He had changed so much from the previous year; both of them could see that. Last year, he had been the proud and popular Slytherin prince, overly self-confident and arrogant. Admittedly not a good friend, and still as obsessed with his appearance and weight, but the Draco Malfoy everyone loved to hate. He had been in all his Slytherin glory, and every girl in his house had been fawning over him; his longish white blonde hair, his condescending attitude, his steely grey eyes and his doubtlessly large amounts of charm.

A completely different person was making their way towards them now. The pale skin, white hair and grey eyes were still admittedly in place, but the unwavering self-confidence had diminished, his arrogance had been replaced. Of course, his cold-hearted manner hadn't gone, but it just wasn't displayed publicly as often. He was thinner than he had ever been, Blaise could see his ribs protruding when they were getting changed, and he was paler than ever before. The girls didn't pay any attention to him anymore, because he insulted anyone who went anywhere near him – excluding Blaise and Daphne of course. He was quieter; he kept more to himself. He was broken.

"Draco?" asked Daphne, as he approached. "Gods, Draco, are you alright? You look terrible."

"Yes, I'm fine," muttered Draco, sitting down heavily in the green leather armchair. "I just had a run in with Potter though."

"He _does _seem rather obsessed with you," sniggered Blaise.

"I don't really mind anymore," sighed Draco. Blaise and Daphne looked at him in astonishment, Blaise's jaw almost hitting the floor.

"You don't mind _Harry Potter_?" spluttered Daphne. "Okay, who are you and what have you done with Draco Malfoy?"

"I don't _know_!" moaned Draco, clutching his head in his hands. "I don't know who I am anymore."

Daphne and Blaise looked at each other, concerned about their friend.

"Look, I know you're a Slytherin and he's a Gryffindor, but there's nothing stopping you from talking to him. I know he's Harry Potter, and he's an annoying bastard, but if he's being like this to you, he's alright in my book," said Blaise, and Daphne nodded in agreement.

"Why is he doing this?" wondered Draco out loud. "It was only last week when he told me to go to hell."

Daphne looked down. "Well, he is a Gryffindor goody-goody with an obsession with saving people, we all know that..."

"Do I look as if I need to be saved?" hissed Draco.

"Mate, you do look troubled. You're too pale and too thin, maybe Potter just wants to help. It's a typical Gryffindor quality, so I'm told."

"Gryffindors," sighed Daphne. "What are they _like_?"

"There's something else as well," muttered Draco, rubbing his exhausted eyes. "I just don't know what."

"Well, with typical Slytherin cunning," said Daphne, grinning. "There's only one way to find out – play along."

Draco unwillingly let out a smile, which dissolved into a grin. Daphne and Blaise were glad to see a different expression to fear and anxiety light up his face. "I guess you're right," he admitted. "Bloody Potter, _why_ does he have to complicate everything so much?"

* * *

_Please review! :)_


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

* * *

_He could feel where Harry was gripping his arm, and curiously, Draco was glad of the contact. It was strange, the way fate kept colliding him and Potter together recently, but Draco couldn't really say he was complaining._

* * *

As soon as Harry step foot into the common room the following morning, bleary eyed and groggy, he was pounced upon by the youngest Weasley, who demanded to know where he had been yesterday night. Ginny stood in front of him, arms folded and wearing an expression she must have inherited from Mrs Weasley.

"I just went for a stroll," said Harry, trying to get rid of her. It was like being followed by an extremely persistent, annoying gnat and all he wanted to do was to swat it.

"Who is she, Harry?" asked Ginny, almost in tears. "Why won't you tell me?"

She stamped her foot angrily, before marching out of the common room, flanked by her posse of admirers and supporters, leaving a bemused Harry behind.

It was at that moment when Ron appeared from the dormitories, also looking as if he hadn't slept much. Harry immediately tensed; he wasn't sure where he and Ron stood, but he relaxed when Ron smiled a small, embarrassed smile and walked over to him.

"I'm sorry about giving you such a hard time over Malfoy," he said. "It is Dumbledore's orders after all, it's not like you've got any choice in the matter. And -"

"Yes?"

"I think Malfoy needs your help," finished Ron, flushing ever so slightly.

Harry smiled thankfully, and the two best friends hugged. Hermione chose that moment to appear, grinning at the sight of Ron and Harry reconciled.

"About time, you two," she said, shaking her head in Hermione-like exasperation.

The trio made their slow way down to the Great Hall for breakfast, ready for a day of Potions, Charms and Defence against the Dark Arts. Only Hermione had completed the Potions essay, but she reluctantly agreed to let Ron and Harry copy it in breakfast, as long as they did it by themselves the next time. Harry and Ron, lying through their teeth, grinned appreciatively, crossed their fingers behind their backs and agreed solemnly.

"Ginny's not very pleased with you," said Hermione, skirting around Mrs Norris, who had just turned the corner. "She was complaining to me about you last night, something about you having a secret girlfriend?"

Ron have Harry a look of mock horror. "_Harry_!" he gasped, clutching his chest. "You're cheating on me!"

Harry gave a look of pure evil to Hermione. "Hermione, no one was supposed to know about us!"

Hermione was no use at play-acting; she burst into hysterical laughter and was soon joined by the boys as they made there way to the Great Hall. However, their laughter was soon cut short when they saw the scene which was unfolding in the Entrance Hall.

There was a Ravenclaw student, a seventh year Harry was sure was called Julian Donivy, or something like that. He was very tall, and looked extremely strong, and Harry remembered someone telling him that he was the biggest catch in Ravenclaw. In fact, some Hufflepuff and Gryffindor girls went insane over him. No Slytherin girls did though, as Julian was Muggle-Born.

This Ravenclaw was threatening someone, and a large crowd had formed around the pair, most of them cheering on Julian as he advanced, extremely red in the face. There were no teachers in sight.

"What's happening?" asked Hermione to Neville, who had just appeared.

"It's that Julian Donivy," replied Neville. "He's having a go at -"

Harry could see perfectly well who Julian was shouting at, as the crowd had moved slightly – giving him a perfect view of Draco Malfoy. Draco looked ridiculously thin and fragile next to the stocky Julian, but if it had been a battle of stares Malfoy would have won hands down, because he was giving Donivy the most intense glare Harry had ever seen.

"Why?" asked Ron to Neville, glancing at Harry. "What's Malfoy done?"

"Nothing, I don't think to provoke him," said Neville. "But Donivy accused him of being a Death Eater, so Malfoy called him a Mudblood I think -"

The crowd were suddenly noticeably noisier, and Harry saw that the two wizards had drawn their wands. The crowd was screaming for Donivy, and Malfoy looked paler than normal, but he was gritting his teeth as he pointed his wand at his opponent.

"_Expelliarmus!" _shouted a student from the back of the crowd, and Draco's wand went shooting off into the air, over the catcalling students to land quite near Harry. Draco hadn't expected someone from the crowd to disarm him, and he had been caught unawares. Now, he was wandless and Donivy was approaching menacingly, flanked by some of his equally as well-built friends. Harry had had enough; he picked up Draco's wand and marched over to the battle scene.

He pushed his way to the front of the crowd; people jumped out of his way when they realised that Harry Potter had arrived, their faces split into expressions of glee. Harry Potter, famous enemy of Draco Malfoy, would surely turn this fight into something they had never seen before. However, they were disappointed.

Julian's smiling face which he had worn when he saw Harry approaching was wiped off his face when Harry disarmed him and his friends. Draco looked at Harry in shock, but there was definitely an expression of thanks there as well, when Harry gave Draco back his wand.

"What the _hell _are you doing?" spat Donivy, surveying the scene with shock. The crowd's catcalling had died down now, and you could have heard a pin drop. Harry could see Ron and Hermione in the background, and Neville – Neville looked as shocked as everyone else in the Entrance Hall did.

"I could ask you the same thing," retorted Harry, positioning himself so that he was immediately to Draco's left.

"That piece of _scum _had just called me a Mudblood!" hissed Donivy, rolling back his sleeves. "So I was going to teach him a lesson!"

"Yes, but you called him a Death Eater first," snapped Harry. "Calling someone a Mudblood is offensive, but you should be proud of being a Muggle-Born. Calling someone a Death Eater, that's about as low as you can get."

Harry could feel Draco fidgeting slightly next to him, but he focused his attention on Donivy.

"It's the truth!" spat Julian. "Everyone knows what Malfoy is."

"You have no proof," said Harry, summoning as much venom as he could muster into his voice. "So leave Malfoy alone."

Julian laughed a laugh completely lacking in humour at all. "Have we stumbled upon a secret love affair here?"

There were a few scattered laughs here and there in the crowd, but mostly it remained quiet. No one wanted to anger Harry Potter, the famous Chosen One. Then, Draco spoke for the first time and Harry realised that he was still a novice in the art of injecting venom into your voice.

"Fuck _off_," hissed Draco.

Donivy walked towards Draco, and the entire crowd held its breath. Harry stood closer to Draco, and held his arm reassuringly.

"I'd just watch your back if I were you, Malfoy," hissed Donivy, smiling slightly. "Potter won't always be around to watch your back."

"Oh I will," said Harry, gripping Draco's arm tighter. "So maybe _you _should watch your back."

* * *

It was an entirely surreal situation to Draco, and he felt almost half-dazed as he looked at the scene around him. One minute it had been about fifty to one, with Donivy calling him a Death Eater, and the whole crowd agreeing with him. Draco knew that he shouldn't have retaliated, but at moments like these, he could definitely be his father's son.

And then Potter had stepped out of the crowd and had disarmed that prat Donivy, and had defended him. If Draco hadn't have already pinched himself quite a number of times, he would have been convinced that this was a particularly bizarre dream.

He could feel where Harry was gripping his arm, and curiously, Draco was glad of the contact. It was strange, the way fate kept colliding him and Potter together recently, but Draco couldn't really say he was complaining.

He looked up, and saw Blaise and Daphne behind the crowd, looking at the scene in front of them in confusion. It was obvious that they had only just arrived at the scene, but when they saw Harry holding onto his arm, Draco could have sworn that they both grinned identically.

When Harry had said that he _would _always be around to protect him, Draco felt a flush of pleasure hurtle through him. Blaise and Daphne had said the same thing pretty much previously, but when Harry said it, the words were electrifying and Draco could feel a pink tinge lighting up his cheeks.

Finally, the crowd was dispersing, and Donivy was reluctantly being dragged away by his friends. The scene was over, and the onlookers hadn't seen at all what they had been expecting. As people walked past, skirting a large path around Malfoy, he could hear snatches of their conversation.

"Why the hell did Potter defend Malfoy?"

"I thought they were enemies!"

"Since when did you stop fighting?"

"Maybe there _is _a love affair!" giggled two Hufflepuff second-years as they entered the Great Hall.

"Are you alright?" asked a voice from Draco's left. Draco turned around and saw a blushing Harry Potter smiling uncertainly.

"Potter – I -" Draco stopped and swallowed his pride. "Thank you," he mumbled.

"No problem, Malfoy. After all, everyone deserves a second chance," he said, looking earnestly at Malfoy, before going to join his friends Weasley and Granger.

Daphne and Blaise chose that point to run over, loudly demanding explanations as to what the hell had just happened. Quickly, Draco related everything to his two best friends, and was vaguely annoyed when he saw an identical knowing smirk grace their features.

"Potter saved you again?" asked Daphne, doing a very poor job at using a "couldn't-care-less" voice.

"I don't know what you're getting at," started Draco, even though he had a good idea what was going through the perverted minds of his friends.

"Potter has a _crush _on you!" shrieked Daphne, causing a great deal of passers-by to stare.

"No he doesn't!" retorted Draco, immediately blushing a fiery red.

"Whether he does or doesn't," said Blaise, his stomach rumbling loudly. "Can we go into the Great Hall and get something to eat?"

The three Slytherins walked into the hall, Blaise determinedly leading the way, leaving a squabbling Daphne and Draco to follow in his wake.

* * *

Ron and Hermione weren't sure what to say to Harry, as they tucked into their breakfast. He was blushing slightly, and had been like that since he had saved Draco from Julian Donivy. Ron was choosing to ignore the blush and was instead concentrating on copying as much of Hermione's Potions essay as possible, while Hermione couldn't help but smile knowingly every once in a while. Harry was supposed to be copying her essay as well, but every so often he would stare into space, chewing his pen in thought.

Ginny interpreted this behaviour as him daydreaming about his secret girlfriend, and turned her back moodily on the Golden Trio. Neville was gazing at Harry in shock, still not quite over how Harry had defended the very teenager who had tried his best to make all their lives hell for the past five years.

"Harry," said Hermione, unable to hide the squeak in her voice. "He's coming over."

Harry had been in a particularly pleasant daydream, and Hermione's words caused him to jump violently, dropping the pen to the floor.

"What, Hermione?" he asked. "Who's coming over?"

"Draco Malfoy!" she squealed.

Ron immediately looked up, and something very like a scowl passed over his face when he saw the approaching Slytherin. Harry turned around so fiercely, he cricked his neck, and he rubbed it as he scoured the room. Then he saw him, the solemn, pale Slytherin was indeed picking his way around the house tables, earning looks of distrust and hatred wherever he went.

"Why the hell is he coming over?" moaned Ron, blotting his essay accidentally. "Can't he stay over in Slytherin?"

Hermione shushed Ron impatiently, and eagerly watched the scene as it was about to unfold. Harry had his back to Draco, facing determinedly forward as if he hadn't noticed the Slytherin's approach at all.

"Potter?" asked the familiar drawling voice.

Harry turned around, and nearly fell off his chair when he realised how close Draco was to him.

"What's wrong, Malfoy?"

Malfoy visibly hesitated, and noticed how inhospitable the rest of Gryffindor house was being. Neville had quickly hurried away from the table as soon as he had noticed the white-blonde Slytherin approaching, and the other Gryffindor boys were sending him glares and fierce looks across the table. The Gryffindor girls, such as Lavender and Parvati, were all firmly looking away from him. Ron was pretending to not notice him, and was resolutely carrying on scribbling his essay, while Hermione was pretending to read an Ancient Runes book, but her eyes kept appearing over the pages, looking eagerly at him and Harry.

"I was wondering, if I could talk to you," asked Malfoy, looking directly at Harry.

Harry could feel himself becoming slightly light-headed under the gaze of Draco Malfoy. "What, do you mean now?"

Draco shook his head, so that strands of silky white blonde hair fell over his eyes. Draco didn't move them, but Harry, for an odd second, felt the urge to push them out of his face himself.

"In potions?" asked Harry; sure that Professor Snape wouldn't deny himself the pleasure of watching his students suffer with their partners of the previous lesson.

Once again, Draco shook his head. "Could we talk, later on? After lessons, maybe in the library?"

Harry nodded in what he hoped was a completely relaxed, self-controlled way. Draco nodded once, and after a brief look into Harry's green eyes once more, he walked off again.

Harry faced Ron and Hermione, puzzled. "I wonder what Draco wants to talk about?" he wondered, trying to think of a possible reason.

Hermione shrugged, apparently unable to wipe the smirk of her face. "I don't know, maybe he wants to talk about all the help you've been giving him?" she guessed. "I bet it's pretty confusing for him. Anyway, are you going to tell him about what Dumbledore ordered you to do?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, are you going to tell Malfoy that you're only trying to be his friend because Dumbledore asked you to? Or are you going to lie?" asked Hermione severely. "I think he's really counting on this friendship, Harry, and if he finds out it's all due to orders..."

"He won't find out," said Ron abruptly. "How could he possibly? Only us three and Dumbledore know about it."

Yet, Hermione still look worried.

* * *

Harry's guess had been correct; Snape did indeed put them with the same partners as before. Only he and Draco looked mildly happy with this arrangement, everyone else in the class moaned at the same time, before dragging themselves to their assigned seats.

"Today," said Snape loudly over the grumbling. "We shall be brewing an extraordinary potion, a potion straight from the roots of potion-making. I will expect all of you in here to do it justice, and anyone not doing so will get detention with me. Not that I expect any to be perfect; after all, not one of you could even brew the simple Agility Potion. Has anyone in here heard of the Desire Potion?"

A few Slytherin girls at the front of the classroom giggled; Snape ignored them.

Only Hermione's hand was in the air, as per usual – Snape took a long time waiting for someone else to answer, before his gaze settled on Hermione. "Very well?"

"It is a potion which allows someone to see a person's very deepest desire," rattled off Hermione without taking a breath. "It is a potion only two people can see the effects of; the drinker and their partner."

Snape nodded, but did nothing else to reward the answer that any other teacher would have awarded House Points to.

"The Desire Potion is not as simple as the Agility Potion, but still easily and well in the bounds of a normal sixth year class. As for this sixth year class..." Snape sneered, but didn't finish the sentence.

"After you have brewed the potion, I want you to drink it, and then your deepest desire will be shown to your partner."

There was a deafening uproar at this, as the students in the classroom realised Snape's plan all along. The Gryffindor students were about to show their deepest, most intense desires to their hated Slytherin enemies, and vice versa. However, Snape stopped the uproar by lifting one hand in the air.

"You may begin," he sneered. "Anyone who purposely brews the wrong potion, or fails to finish it, will be subject to half a years worth of detentions with me. And trust me, they will not be pleasant detentions..." he trailed off, leaving the rest to everyone's imaginations.

With bad grace did Harry start to brew his potion. He didn't want Draco to try his potion; he preferred to keep his utmost desires to himself, and even though Draco was better than the old Malfoy, Harry wouldn't have even showed _Ron _his most private thoughts.

He chopped his caterpillars hurriedly, and added a few dead spiders into the bubbling mixture. Trust Snape, he really was growing more evil by the second. Harry glanced at Malfoy, and saw that he too looked rather nervous, and was shaking slightly as he stripped the bark off a plant he was clutching.

"Malfoy," he muttered, although the bubbling noises from all the cauldrons in the classroom covered up any whispers.

"Potter?" replied Malfoy, frowning slightly.

"Offence not intended," began Harry, "But I don't really want you to see my desires."

"Mutual feeling, Potter," said Malfoy, throwing the bark into his own cauldron. "Do you have an idea?"

"We can just pretend to drink it, and then make up some rubbish?" suggested Harry, collecting dead caterpillar heads into his gloved hands, ready to tip into the now sluggish green mixture.

"Make up some rubbish?" repeated Malfoy.

"Sure, the old Divination stand-by," said Harry, putting the lid on his cauldron, so that the potion could "_simmer for ten minutes_."

Malfoy smirked. "Sometimes, Potter, I don't know why you're not in Slytherin."

"Well, the Sorting Hat did consider putting me in Slytherin," Harry confided. "But in the end in settled on Gryffindor."

"It considered _you _for Slytherin?" gasped Draco, almost dropping his wand on the floor. "Why on earth did it put you in Gryffindor?"

"I asked it to," said Harry, avoiding Draco's eyes. "Because of you."

"What do you mean, because of me?" asked Draco, unaware that his potion was now smoking.

"Your potion's smoking," said Harry pointing hastily. "Well, after our little argument on the train, and what people had said about Slytherin...I just didn't particularly want to be sorted into it."

"I was an arrogant bastard," admitted Malfoy, after a slight pause, stirring his potion anti-clockwise.

Harry's jaw nearly reached the floor. Yes, he knew that Malfoy had changed slightly, but actually admitting that he used to be a bastard? That was something Harry never thought Malfoy would do in a million years.

"And I still am," carried on Malfoy, in a flat, emotionless voice.

"No you're not," stuttered Harry, unaware of what he was saying. "You're not a bastard anymore, Malfoy."

Malfoy looked up at Harry, disbelief written all over his face. Harry continued, choosing his words more carefully.

"You've changed, and it's definitely for the better."

Then, Malfoy smiled, and it took Harry's breath away.

He had never seen Malfoy genuinely smile before. It had all been smirks in the past, and even recently Malfoy had only managed weak, uncertain smiles. This was definitely not one of those, this smile lit up Malfoy's face so much, it struck Harry forcibly in the stomach and it took all his strength to keep his balance.

"Thanks Potter," he muttered.

* * *

It had been nice to smile again, and it had been Potter who had done it. When Harry had said those words though, blushing ever so slightly, Draco had found it impossible not to grin. Maybe there _was _hope for him after all, maybe he could change...

The two teenage boys, aware that they had spilled a lot of their emotions to the other, had hastily got on with their potions and filling in their results on scrap pieces of parchment. However, Malfoy was sure that Potter glanced more times than necessary over at him, and once their eyes met at the same time – before they both returned to their work quickly.

Finally, it was time for the potions to be tasted, and every student filled a small vial with their own potion. Draco was interested to see that everyone's potions were a different colour; his own was a deep blue, Harry's was a red, Daphne's was purple...

"Right," said Snape, smiling nastily. "I want the Slytherins to see what secret desires the Gryffindors have, first."

Draco immediately saw what Snape was doing. Once again, he was favouring his own house. All the Gryffindors would have to reveal their desires to the Slytherins, but Draco knew that there wouldn't be enough time for vice versa.

Harry passed a vial of red potion to Draco, smiling slightly as he did so. For one wild moment, Draco considered drinking it anyway; he was deeply curious to find out what Harry's secret desire was. But when he saw Harry's trusting face, Draco knew that he couldn't do that. _God, he really was turning into a Hufflepuff_.

"3, 2, 1..." counted down Snape, softly, and at the same time all the Slytherins gulped back that tiny vial of potion, except Draco. He quickly pulled out an empty vial from his sleeve, and put the full vial back in his pocket. Then, he copied the after-effects the rest of his housemates were apparently experiencing – dizziness and some nervous giggling.

Daphne Greengrass immediately squawked with laughter; and Blaise too followed suit. Ron and Hermione looked terrified, and both blushed to their roots when Daphne pointed at Ron and Blaise pointed at Hermione. Hermione burst into tears and ran out of the classroom, followed hurriedly by Ron. One by one, each Gryffindor student underwent deep embarrassment, as the Slytherins howled with laughter. Finally, it was Harry's turn and Snape was watching with an eagerness to see Harry humiliated which even he couldn't conceal.

"Well, Draco," said Snape. "What is the Boy-Who-Lived's hidden desire?"

"He wants to be a Quidditch player," said Draco. "He wants to be the captain of the Chuddley Cannons."

A few people snorted, but most looked simply disappointed at nothing more interesting being said. Snape looked murderous, especially when he saw Harry's too-innocent smile.

"Not that I blame you, Mr Malfoy," he whispered angrily. "But to just satisfy my curiosity, drink another vial."

Draco visibly hesitated.

"He's told you my desire!" said Harry angrily. "Why should he have to do it again?"

"Don't challenge me," hissed Snape, eyes glinting menacingly. "Mr. Malfoy, you heard what I said."

Draco tried to communicate with Harry via his eyes that he wouldn't tell the class what was really his desire. But, he couldn't help but feel slightly glad that he was about to see it. His curiosity was burning him. Harry handed him another vial full of the red liquid, Draco took the stopper off, and gulped it back in front of the whole potions class.

It was as if liquid fire was coursing through him, and Draco sub-consciously doubled up as the fire wound its way down his body. Then, all of a sudden, as if there was an explosion inside of him – he felt surging energy coursing around him, all the way to his fingertips. He felt extremely light-headed, and had to grip onto the desk in front of him to avoid toppling over. And then, his suddenly went pitch black. A face was starting to materialise in front of him, then a body. His heart quickened as the face started to focus, so he could actually distinguish features...

The whole potions class was waiting with bated breath, watching Draco's expression intently. Harry was terrified, he was sure that Malfoy wouldn't reveal his desire, or at least he hoped so – but he didn't particularly want Malfoy to see anything which was in his brain.

Suddenly, Malfoy's eyes flew open. He looked at Harry with complete and utter shock, his eyes opened as wide as they could go, before he crumpled to the ground in a dead faint. The class immediately descended into chaos, with a circle forming around the motionless Slytherin, who wasn't moving at all.

"Out of my way!" commanded Snape, and people immediately let him through, until he was standing right over the pale Slytherin on the floor. However, he seemed to be coming round, his arm moved and then we was groggily sitting up, moaning slightly and clutching his head.

"Mr Zabini, Miss Greengrass, take Mr Malfoy to the hospital wing," ordered Snape. Blaise Zabini and Daphne Greengrass nodded, before they both helped Malfoy to stand up shakily. He seemed to have lost all his balance, and he held onto their arms for dear life. Slowly, very slowly, they managed to transport him out of the classroom, amidst the buzzing of the rest of the class, who were trying to work out what had happened.

"Get out of my sight," spat Snape to the class, but mostly to Harry. The class wasted no time in clearing up their cauldrons, and then hurrying out of the classroom, Harry with them. He didn't know exactly what Draco had seen in his vision, but he had an idea, and if he was correct – things were about to get interesting. Hurriedly, he overtook most of his classmates and raced off to find Hermione and Ron.

* * *

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